


Soul in the Machine

by OneOverClover



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, No use of y/n, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Reader starts out as Simon's owner, Reader works for Cyberlife, Reader-Insert, Simon (Detroit: Become Human) Backstory, Simon is Not a Sex Toy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25056910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneOverClover/pseuds/OneOverClover
Summary: You're a dedicated Cyberlife employee, but you've never actually owned an Android of your own. That is until your closest coworker drops a gift off on your doorstep with less-than-pure intentions. The events that follow will change your perception of what it means to be a person, and ultimately help shape the future of the country.This tells the Story of how Simon became deviant and eventually ends up leaving for Jericho. It also follows what happens after the game's "best" ending.
Relationships: Simon (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	Soul in the Machine

You’ve always been a fast typer – provided you aren’t looking at the keys. It doesn’t make sense, really. Your fingers fly across the keyboard pounding out lines of code, but the second you look down at the letters and numbers it’s like your hands are encased in jello. Right now, the code is coming out a glacial pace.

That’s all right. You should be taking your time with this anyway. It’s a top-secret project, the latest in the RK series. The final product is so protected – the programmers working on the individual features aren’t privy to what the other teams on the project are doing. Your section involves a unique feature. This android will be able to analyze substances by putting them on its tongue. You have no idea why. Only a few people have knowledge of what the whole project will be like when it all comes together, and that’s above your pay grade.

“You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” asks a nasally, chiding voice over your shoulder. “Eyes on the screen! You know how you are.”

You stop typing all together as the man the voice belongs to appears at your side with two paper cups of coffee. He plops one of the cups down on your desk, “Just the way the lady likes it!”

You lift the cup and sip hoping to have something to complain back at him about. Damn, it’s good coffee though. “Thanks, Marshall.”

The man pulls up a rolling chair beside you and immediately sits down and begins fussing with his blonde hair. “This is only the beginning; you are in for a full-day birthday experience.”

You shake your head, not being the type who enjoys being the center of attention, “That’s really not necessary.”

Marshall throws his hands up in the air dramatically, “Oh, please. Like you can stop me! Besides, you deserve it. Hell, Cyberlife should be throwing you a damn party with all the work you’ve put into this project.”

“Yeah, well can you hold off on any more celebrations for a few hours? I really think I’ll be able to put a cap on this code before lunch,” you say.

“This is so exciting,” Marshall giddily claps his hands together. “When do you think they’ll have the whole unit together?”

You turn your attention back to your computer, “Impossible to say without knowing where all the other teams are in their work. Hell, if this thing is as important as they are making it out to be, we may never get to see it.”

“Pardon me.” Your conversation is interrupted by an Android worker. “The central office requests an E.T.A. for your completed code.”

Marshall glares at the Android. It’s a PL600.

Marshall Jacobs has worked for cyberlife as a programmer for a long time. In 2025, he had carried on an affair with a married man at the head of android design. As a gift to Marshall, the man had modeled one of the latest lines of household Androids’ features after him. At first, he had been thrilled. Marshall had always been terribly vain and having hordes of himself to admire stoked the fires of his conceit.

But then he began being mistaken for a machine. Police stopped him to question why he was out of uniform. Strangers ordered him around on the streets. In one particularly traumatizing incident, a group of passengers tried to force him into the Android compartment of a bus. He ended up intentionally cutting his own hand with a pocketknife to prove to the people that he was human.

Every PL600 looks exactly like Marshall. At least exactly like Marshall looked over a decade ago. Now he’s well into his 40s with crows feet and hair he has to have colored at the stylist. You can’t help but notice the look of wistfulness in his eyes each time he spots one of his army of plastic clones – young and beautiful forever.

“Hey, she told them it would be ready today. That should be good enough!” Marshall yells at the Android.

It just stands there staring back at the pair of you blankly.

You sigh and put a hand over your face, “Tell them I’ll have it in before lunchtime.”

“Understood. Thank you.” The android nods and marches off down the hall.

“Don’t forget to fuck off on your way there,” Marshall shouts after it.

You laugh spinning back around to your computer, “Really, though, I’m going to have to get to work if I’m going to get this finished by then,”

“Alright, alright. Just don’t think I’m going to let you keep your nose to the grindstone all day.”

\----------------------------------------------

You write your final line of code just before noon and send it off to the central office. It’s one of the most complex and difficult projects you’ve ever completed, and you symbolically flip your terminal screen the bird when you are finished.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” says Marshall sneaking up behind you.

Marshall and the rest of your team take you out for a birthday lunch. You’ve grown quite fond of all them in the months you’ve spent on this project. Your group has dubbed themselves “The Taste Buds” in honor of the tongue sensors you’ve all been working on together.

Besides being a programmer, you also dabble in Android engineering. You have a pretty good understanding of all the physical parts that keep them running. It’s made you a valuable company asset. The rest of the “Buds” were quite taken aback when they found out you don’t actually own an Android. You’ve just always felt like it would be like taking your work home with you.

You leave the office that evening with no particular plans in mind. Sitting at home with a hot cup of tea and watching Antiques Roadshow sounds like as good of a birthday as any to you. It’s immediately obvious those plans are going on the back burner when you pull into your driveway. There’s a huge Cyberlife crate sitting upright on your front stoop.

 _“What the hell is this?”_ you grumble to yourself getting out of your car. A birthday card is taped to the front of the crate. The outside of the card simply reads “Happy Birthday” but when you open it, a pop-up book style penis springs out and “Just kidding. Eat a dick.” is printed on the inside. You don’t even have to read to signature to know it’s from Marshall.

The thought occurs to you that you don’t _have_ to open the crate. You could just have someone pick it up in the morning. But of course Marshall would know, and dealing with his sass seems far more exhausting than whatever nonsense is in the box.

Reluctantly, you pop the crate’s latches and push open the lid. A PL600 stands inside with his eyes closed looking for all the world like a corpse in a coffin. The utter peculiarity of the moment leaves you frozen for a moment. Why on Earth has he given you an Android?

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you immediately dial Marshall’s number. He’s already snickering when he picks up. “I’m assuming you’ve found him?”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this thing? Couldn’t you have sprung for a gift card, a nice bottle of wine maybe?” you ask pacing up and down your front steps.

“All the wine in the world isn’t going to solve the problems this thing can,” he retorts.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s fully equipped! State-of-the-art thirium-functioning genitalia with maxx cyberskin. Really top of the line. I had to pull some strings with the Traci department to get ahold of one.” He sounds positively pleased with himself.

You press the heel of your hand into your forehead and take a deep breath. PL600s are primarily sold as household Androids, but also as secretaries, receptionists, and general office workers. They don’t come standard with genitals, but any adult model has the option for the upgrade. You catch yourself scanning up the Android’s body imagining what it might look like underneath the standard Cyberlife jumpsuit. It makes you feel like a creep.

“So, let me get this straight,” you say into the phone. “You’ve gifted me a life-size sex doll. That looks Just. Like. You.”

“That looks just like me _in my prime_. You should feel lucky. No women have ever had the chance to experience the real thing for themselves. This has to be the next best thing.”

“Marshall, this has to be the most narcissistic thing any person has ever done in the history of humanity.” It’s starting to rain, and you feel the cool droplets hitting your cheeks that you realize are flush with embarrassment.

He clucks his tongue at you, “Love, don’t think everyone can’t tell how lonely you are. It’s one thing to be married to your job, but people need companionship. If you won’t make an effort with real men, then at least be open to pretending for a while with your new toy. There are protocols you can have it download for relationships, romance, and best of all, it will never judge you for your kinks.”

“I don’t have any kinks!” you say defensively. “And if I did, they certainly would not involve a fake relationship with a plastic man.”

Marshall sighs, “Look, just give it some thought. Who knows, some practice with it might even put you in the mood to go out and look for the real thing.”

The rain is picking up now, and you should really get inside. You curtly say goodnight to Marshall and hang up the phone.

Pulling your keys from your pocket, you jam them into your front door before turning back to the Android in its box. It doesn’t seem right to leave it out in the elements.

You reach up and touch its LED to activate it. The blue circle rotates and its eyes flicker open. “Thank you for choosing Cyberlife model PL600. Would you like a register a name for this unit?”

“Not right now,” you say pushing open the door to your house. “Just come inside.”

The Android obeys staying close on your heels. “A name should be registered to each unit within 72 hours of activation.”

He may look like Marshall, but he certainly doesn’t have your coworker’s high-pitched, flamboyant voice. 

“Yeah, how come?”

“It says so in the Cyberlife manual.” It responds blankly.

“Define says.” You know you sound petulant, but really who’s here to judge you.

“Says. Verb. Third Person Present tense of say. To utter words so as to convey information, an opinion, or an instruction. Simon Says. Noun. A game in which the leader attempts to trick the other participants into –“

“Stop! Just stop. Your name is Simon, okay. There, you satisfied now?”

The Android’s LED rotates again. “My name is Simon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Guys! So I am currently working on another series, but I needed a little break from it. I'm unsure when I'll be able to come back to this one, but if there is any interest in it, please let me know!


End file.
